


the expense of spirit

by freakylemurcat



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Deepthroating, Drunk Sex, Face-Fucking, Fuckbuddies, Hotel Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pairings, Semi-Public Sex, Switching, Unsafe Sex, dear god, just a lot of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakylemurcat/pseuds/freakylemurcat
Summary: Every time Kusama Nowaki runs into Usami Akihiko, he gets overtaken by a certain type of madness. He's not once even tried to resist it.(AU where neither Nowaki and Hiroki nor Usami and Misaki have met, and Nowaki can't help but want when Usami Akihiko runs into his path. The feeling is very mutual.)((This is nearly 10000 words of porn. i have no regrets.))





	1. the residents' office

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a simple woman. i just want them to bang

Tsumori is the one to volunteer Nowaki for the job, of course, but for once his hand over lacks the normal mocking quality. 

“I wouldn’t ask you if I hadn’t already promised my sisters on pain of death that I would come to this stupid party,” he says, gathering up his bag and leading Nowaki towards the lifts. “I only remembered yesterday.”

Nowaki has given up being annoyed at Tsumori’s flakiness a long time ago. “So why does this guy need your attention anyway?” 

“He’s a writer or something. Says he needs to do research for a novel.” says Tsumori, dismissively. “But really his dad’s a bigshot banker, like name on a skyscraper bigshot, so the director’s hedging his bets in case a donation comes our way.”

Nowaki is becoming less thrilled by the minute but then Tsumori stops them in the corridor and grips him by the shoulders. “Look, you should be thanking me for this opportunity. I did my research before saying yes.”  Off Nowaki’s look he rolls his eyes and says, “Fine. I googled the guy. He’s hot. _You_ should owe _me_.”

* * *

Usami Akihiko _is_ hot. Likely incredibly, super model hot. And, even better, Nowaki’s gaydar is pinging at top volume, probably because this is a twenty something guy wearing a three piece suit in a colour that can only be described as purple. It should be hideous, but the man wears it with startling aplomb.

For someone apparently playing with daddy’s money, Usami Akihiko is also remarkably charming and dedicated. After the pleasantries, and purchasing Nowaki a coffee the size of his forearm, he sets to a series of questions about life as a doctor, the hospital, training, everything. By the end of half an hour Nowaki feels like he has been stripped back and exposed. Not even his own parents have questioned him about his life like this before.

Finally, curiosity apparently sated and notes scribbled in a neat little jotter, Usami Akihiko sits back and picks up his coffee cup. .

“Your colleague did tell me a few tall tales about his exploits in your resident’s room,” Usami says, finishing the last of his coffee. There’s a knowing look in his eyes. “I wonder how many were true.”   

Knowing Tsumori probably a surprising amount, Nowaki thinks. Instead he says, “People make out there’s a lot more sex in hospitals than there really is. I’ve never come across it.”

Usami Akihiko blinks at him and a slow smile creeps onto his mouth. “Don’t you think that’s a shame? Surely there’s someone out there who has tried to get you for some rough and tumble in a closet somewhere?”

Is this guy coming onto him? Nowaki had wondered - as he’d introduced himself there had been a long slow look that had taken in all six foot of him, regardless of the bags under his eyes or his slightly rumpled scrubs. Even now, when he bends his arm to bring his coffee to his mouth to delay his answer, bright blue eyes follow his bicep straining against the one-size-fits-no-one scrub top. He swallows his coffee and manages to say, “Well I guess I must be missing a few clues if that’s the case.”

There is now a foot tapping gently against his ankle. Nowaki is fairly convinced he’s being flirted with now.

“I can be a bit dense sometimes,” he adds, pressing his leg into the touch and meeting the guy’s gaze. Something mad has overtaken him; maybe delirium from lack of sleep, or overwork or possibly just the fact he hasn't gotten laid in nearly a year. Whatever it is, he’s buckling himself in for this ride regardless.

“You should show me your resident’s room,” says Usami with that same sly smile. “There should always be some romance somewhere in a story. Maybe we should be doing field research.”

Nowaki nods and knocks the last of his coffee back. He’s not sure he has romance in mind.

* * *

 

The paediatric resident’s room is a little cubbyhole off a main corridor, with a desk in one corner and a bed squeezed into the other side. Nowaki ushers his guest into the room, locks the door and is abruptly set on.

Nowaki is pushed back against the door, staggering slightly with the weight of the other man against his chest. He’s made out with other guys before of course, but never quite as enthusiastically. The difference is startling, and he can only return in kind, groaning into the man’s mouth as chilly hands slip under his scrub top.

The body against his is much more closely wrapped up in at least three layers of suit; when Nowaki finds the wherewithal to manage it, he fumbles at the neat lapels and Usami is kind enough to back off to shrug it to the floor. He doesn’t take much else off, which is a shame because Nowaki deeply suspects there is a tight body under that slightly stuffy waistcoat and shirt combo, but leans back into Nowaki’s space and kisses him again.

It’s much softer this time, but endlessly more sensual. Nowaki groans again at the touch of his tongue, and opens his mouth to the blandishments. Usami tastes of rich black coffee and a flavour of the nicotine gum he’s been chewing, and his lips are soft because of course this man owns chapstick. Nowaki definitely likes it and leans into it heavily.

A few moments pass of being so closely intertwined, Nowaki thinks they must be breathing the air straight from each other’s lungs, one of them shifts stance and Nowaki’s cock pushes against Usami’s hip bone. The pressure is just the right side of enough. He’s been sporting a half erection since Usami had first quirked an eyebrow and suggested they do some ‘field research’, and now he’s rapidly approaching embarrassing status given how his scrubs fit.

This does not go unnoticed, as lips quirk in a smile against his and then Usami leans back, his hips pushing forward so Nowaki can feel the similar bulge in those neatly tailored dress trousers. His lips are reddened from Nowaki’s attentions, so Nowaki swipes a thumb across that plush lower lip and chases it with another kiss when a kitten pink tongue sweeps after it. He catches the man by the chin and presses the pad of his thumb against his cupid’s bow just for the hell of it, and is pleasantly rewarded when Usami bows his head slightly and lets the digit slip onto the pliant surface of his tongue.

“Want me to suck you off?” says Usami softly, letting the pad of Nowaki’s thumb rest on his lower lip again.

Nowaki’s throat is suddenly parched, like he hasn’t had a drink for months. Somehow his voice only trembles a bit when he says, “God, yes.”

Usami kneels in between his thighs and nuzzles almost sweetly at his cock through his scrub bottoms. He's already aching hard but the sight of this pretty man on his knees and looking up at him past the bulge of his dick makes him throb. There aren't words to describe what seeing Usami pull his scrubs and underwear down with his teeth does to him.  
  
With his cock out, Usami hums with low delight and licks along slow path up from the base to the head. Nowaki’s thighs jerk with the motion, as with the series of wet, open mouthed kisses the man visits on the leaking head of his cock. He even bows his head slightly to mouth at Nowaki’s balls, sucking softly at each in turn until they were drawn up and tense with the teasing.  
  
"Oh, just suck it," he growls, finally losing patience.  
  
"They do say that doctors are naturally a bit bossy" says Usami cheekily, but he closes one hand around the base of Nowaki’s cock and sucks the head into his mouth. A punched out sort of noise escapes Nowaki at the hot, wet suction, all focussed around the crown of his cock. Its so intense it's almost agony, and he pushes gently on the man’s head to encourage a little more depth.  
  
"Go deeper," he gasps, "Just a little if you can, please, Usami-san. You're doing so good."

To his sudden misery, Usami pulls back off his cock, still working the base with short twists of his wrist that only serve to work him up but deal no relief. “Call me Akihiko, given that I’m sucking your cock,” he says, before slipping his head a little lower and following Nowaki’s instructions.

It seems to Nowaki that he’s being tortured. Out of his accidental dry spell his body feels like it’s on edge, ready to deliver instantly, but every time the hot sensation of orgasm curls tighter in his abdomen the shallow bob of those soft lips around his cock draws back and the fingers around the base tighten. He’s left panting and shivering, clutching at his own hair at how _good_ it feels and simultaneously how much he needs _more_.

“Please,” he stutters finally, “Please, I just want to come.”  
  
Perhaps the man’s smirk around his cock should have been a warning, but the lax fingers around his cock slip away and then Akihiko bows his head and shows off an unexpected skill. Nowaki curses roundly as his cock slips easily into the rhythmically squeezing vice of the man’s throat without even a flicker of reaction. Akihiko casts bright eyes up at him and manages to rumble a laugh somehow, even with a dick halfway down his throat. He pulls back up slowly, extending the slick pull of his lips into indeterminable torture and lets the hot flesh rest on his cheek.  
  
"Since you asked so nicely,” he says, voice hoarse. "Want to fuck my throat first?"  
  
"God yes," says Nowaki again, gathering a hank of ash blond hair in his fist and pushing down. He can drag the man all the way down like this and then yank him back up, choosing to get to the wet pop of his cock clearing his throat before shoving back down. Usami Akihiko is surprisingly biddable like this, and his eyes go to half-mast and hazy as he's bobbed up and down on Nowaki’s cock.  
  
He can feel his climax creeping up on him slowly now as if aware he’ll be permitted to achieve it, making his tongue loose with groans and his hips thrust up to bruise the man’s mouth. Akihiko groans sweetly, and Nowaki realised that the man has a hand on his own cock and is getting off on this just as Nowaki is.  
  
The thought is just too hot. He fucks in a couple more times and comes with a groan; Akihiko swallows frantically and then pulls back so the last drops spatter onto his tongue and lips.

Nowaki’s brain is nearly offline already from the force of his orgasm and the sight of the man licking the pearlescent white of his come off those soft lips is enough to render him nearly stupid. Therefore when he’s shoved against the edge of the desk, he obediently sits and spreads his legs so Usami can fit in between them. It’s like working on autopilot to fit his hand around the other man’s impressive cock, tracing the heavy vein along the bottom with his fingertips and thumbing the head on the upstroke. Usami shudders and closes his own long slender fingers around Nowaki’s - shows him the pace he likes, where to curl his wrist, when to squeeze tighter - and within twenty strokes, spills with a groan that Nowaki hungrily catches with a messy kiss.

They pant open mouthed against one another, until Nowaki’s higher functions start to recover and he glances down. He’s a mess - his top is wet with come and his cock is still hanging out, dampening the edge of his scrub bottoms. On the other hand, somehow Usami Akihiko looks remarkably presentable, until you spotted the trace of come across his slightly swollen mouth.

“How was that for research?” he asks, wincing as he pulls his underwear back up. The scrubs are unsalvageable, so he busies himself changing into a fresh pair which are ostensibly the same size yet fit several sizes bigger.

“First hand experience is always much more informative,” says Akihiko, wiping his hands off and then combing his hair back with his fingers. He miraculously looks unlike someone who’s just had a secret clinch in an office except…

Nowaki swipes his thumb across that plush mouth, clearing the last trace of come away, and feels his cock throb weakly as Akihiko laps it away with a devilish flick of his tongue.

“You don’t have enough changes of clothes in this office to deal with what will happen if you keep doing things like that, Kusama-san,” says Akihiko, eyes darkening and voice husky. “Not that I wouldn’t love to but I should go. I’m late for my editor’s meeting as is.”

“You’ve had my cock in your throat: drop the honorific,” Nowaki says and kisses him once more before unlocking the door. “Fine. It was a pleasure meeting you, Akihiko." 

“You were a delight to talk with, Nowaki,” says the other man, a half-smirk on his handsome face. “I hope we’ll speak again sometime.”

“That would be great,” says Nowaki, and means it.

He watches the author stride back down the corridor to the lifts, dialling his phone and laughing at the response he gets on the other end. Only when he vanishes around the corner does Nowaki slip back into the office and start to try to compile a believable series of events to tell Tsumori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The expense of spirit in a waste of shame  
> Is lust in action; and till action, lust  
> Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,  
> Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;  
> Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;  
> Past reason hunted and no sooner had,  
> Past reason hated as a swallowed bait  
> Laid on purpose to make the taker mad:  
> Mad in pursuit, and in possession so;  
> Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;  
> A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;  
> Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.  
> ...All this the world well knows; yet none knows well  
> ...To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
> 
> Sonnet 129, Shakespeare.


	2. the gay bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back on her nonsense
> 
> eyyyyy it's ya girl - me

Somehow Nowaki manages to not flush bright scarlet when Tsumori elbows him the next morning after handover and asks how his meeting went. He doesn’t quite manage the same when he gets a message later than day from an unknown number. 

- _thank you for your help yesterday_ \- it read - _I really appreciate it_ -

There was a winky face at the end. 

For one moment, Nowaki’s finger hovered over the delete button. It was a case of momentary madness; now it was all out of his system there was no need to prolong the insanity, right?

He saved the number instead.

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Nowaki is opening a can of beer and  considering his choices between three packets of instant ramen when his phone drums a beat on the countertop. Tomorrow is his one day off this week, and instantly his heart sinks at the thought of being called back in to cover. 

The number is Usami Akihiko’s. Nowaki has trawled the internet and found a sneaky tabloid shot of the man looking smoky eyed and pretty to use as the caller ID picture. Perhaps that’s what sways him to swipe down and look at the contents. 

- _i’m bored~_ \- reads the message. Nowaki looks at it for a long while and thinks about what the plans for his evening and day off were looking like. At best his future included a few too many lonely beers and then possibly an even lonelier wank. He unlocks the phone and sent back a quick - _what’s happening?_ -

- _at a gay bar with a friend_ -

Nowaki’s heart briefly sinks and then another message comes through.

- _he’s just spotted this jackass he’s been on and off with for months, so it's going to get even more dull soon when they inevitably disappear..._ -

There’s a pile of fresh laundry on the end of the sofa that Nowaki had never gotten around to putting away. Therefore by the time he’s received a response to his question about where this gay bar is, he’s just finished shimmying into a sleek pair of grey jeans and his favourite black t-shirt, which is just one perfect degree too tight. 

- _stay by the bar and i’ll find you_ \- he sends, slings his jacket on and leaves.

* * *

 

Luckily he knows this place - Tsumori had brought him out for one particularly messy night to celebrate passing exams, when they had spent most of the month’s salary on drinks alone. It’s a couple of short train rides away, and since it’s a weekday thankfully not too busy. Nowaki makes to join the end of the queue, but a bouncer gives him a thoughtful up and down and beckons him to skip the wait. Half the queue glares at him angrily, the others eye him with poorly disguised lust; the bouncer taps his arse on the way past, but Nowaki’s not planning on being distracted from his rendezvous when he’s so close.

Inside, the place is dimly lit and smells sharply of alcohol and the cool tinge of a smoke machine. Nowaki pinpoints the bar, and the only single guy standing there, nursing a square glass and looking like he was a thousand miles away.  

Usami is still wearing a button down shirt and dress trousers - perhaps no one has told him there are other options - but whatever tailor worked their magic on this particular pair of trousers deserve an award for somehow making them tighter than skin. Probably not a Peace Prize however, judging by the aggravated looks Nowaki earns when he strolls up and leans on the bar alongside him. 

The first glance he gets from the man himself is eloquent enough to explain why none of the jealous onlookers have dared approach; it’s icy and imperious and profoundly unfriendly. Then, abruptly, as Usami recognises him in the dull blue lights, it morphs into a bright leering smile which looks him up and down and grows hungrier by the second. Nowaki is starting to wonder is ‘boredom’ is a euphemism for ‘horny’. 

“Has your friend abandoned you?” Nowaki asks, taking the glass from the man’s hand and wrinkling his nose at the taste of the whiskey. 

Akihiko glances over to a shadowy corner of lounge chairs and then rolls his eyes. “If he can make his mistakes then I can make my own.” He knocks back the rest of his drink and leads Nowaki through the heaving crowd towards a quieter corridor. There Nowaki shoves him up against a wall and kisses him hard, until they have to push apart to pant for air. 

“Don’t these places have bouncers in the bathrooms?” he asks, realising where he’s being led. 

“Yes, but I’ve taken the liberty of bribing this one with the cutest twink I could find.” Usami grins, slipping in through the bathroom door and leading Nowaki ostensibly by the hand but mostly by the libido.

* * *

 

In passing Nowaki tries to ignore the knowing grin from the bouncer, who is indeed flirting with a curly haired boy barely old enough to get entry, and finds himself in the second to last cubicle of a pleasantly clean bathroom. 

Akihiko wraps arms around his neck and kisses him firmly, even as he’s pushed up against the stall wall. Nowaki grinds his hips forward and is gratified to feel the evidence of the other man’s arousal; it presses up against his own just perfectly and he groans and pushes forward more. 

“How do you want..?” he murmurs, wondering for a moment if he should maybe just go to his knees and suck the man off here and now. Akihiko’s hands are wandering his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, in even firm caresses that are threatening to make him lose his mind. His cock is already aching hard, throbbing in the tight confines of his jeans, and he curses when long fingers brush over the zip. There’s a sudden release as Usami’s thumb pops the button open and then his cock is drawn out. He grinds forward, pushing into cool soft fingers until he’s as hard as diamond and dripping onto the fine cloth of Akihiko’s trousers when those hands move on.

Usami’s exploring fingers dip into the back pocket of his jeans, and draw out the two sachets of lube Nowaki had subtly pocketed in passing from the bowls by the bathroom door. He displays them like someone with a winning poker hand.

“Let’s do it quickly, hmm?” he says, pulling Nowaki’s hands to grip his arse. 

“Turn around,” Nowaki growls, feeling a little light-headed with arousal.

The trousers are so exquisitely tailored on it’s almost a shame to yank them down. Even the underwear underneath are designer made. Nowaki is fucking someone with a wardrobe expenditure greater than his own yearly salary in the bathroom of an urban Tokyo gay bar. Perhaps he’s actually passed out on his sofa back at his flat and this is just a wet dream.

He spills the content of a sachet of lube over his fingers and slips a gentle finger in, lapping soft kisses at the juncture of the man’s shoulder and neck to ameliorate the shock of the cold and the intrusion. His finger slips past the furled rim easily, and he growls softly at the realisation that Usami is already soft and slick. He shoves in another two fingers just to test. 

“Ah! I was  _ bored _ even before we came out,” gasps the man, knocking his forehead against the wall at the touch. He has long, delicate piano player’s fingers; Nowaki’s must be thicker and far heavier judging by his reaction.

Nowaki’s cock throbs. The slick heat around his fingers is delicious, the right side of tight, and that arse looks superb even with just his fingers splitting it open. “Let’s move on then, shall we?”

He fucks his fingers in a few more rough times and uses the leftover lube to slick his cock. As he settles the tip into place, he cants Usami’s head around just enough to kiss him messily as he starts to push forward. The man gasps, and Nowaki swallows his noises as he fucks another inch deeper and then pulls back. Even for a hole stretched twice, his cock is thick and long, and by the end Usami is panting for breath and shivering on his tiptoes. 

“Have you had a growth spurt since our last meeting?” the blond gasps as the last aching inch sinks into him. 

“I think this hole is just tighter. Maybe you talk too much,” laughs Nowaki grinding up and taking a small amount of wicked pleasure at the wrecked noise this gains him. “God, you feel good.” 

Usami grins again, a wild flush on his cheeks visible even in the dim light. “Fuck me.”

Nothing but obedient, Nowaki does as he’s told. It’s almost too good, the tight ring of muscle flexing around his cock as his pulls out and then the scorching, wet heat as he pushes in. Usami is tall, but still a few inches shorter than Nowaki, so has to rise up high on his toes for the angle to work, and the effort of balance makes him shudder and his hole flutter. 

Initially he has to move slowly - Akihiko’s hole resists rougher strokes for some time, until Nowaki reaches round and takes his cock in hand. With that further stimulus and a little slick of extra lube, the resistance eases and he can fuck the man how he wants. He goes hard, sliding his free hand underneath the dress shirt to the flex of his abs and then to the planes of his pectorals, where he can tease a nipple into standing well to attention. The stall wall thuds quietly with each thrust, but it’s the wet sounds of their bodies in tandem which is the loudest. There’s no way people can’t hear it.

“Give it to him harder!” laughs someone in the bathroom beyond the stall, just as Nowaki thinks it. Nowaki’s hips stutter and he has to bury his face in Akihiko’s collar to hide his embarrassed giggles. 

Usami laughs quietly too, showing no sign of shame at being called out. “Maybe we should take it slower instead,” he gasps, rolling his hips in a particularly provocative manner.

“Could you be more contrary?” But Nowaki was right on board, especially if he squeezed down like that again. “Show me how you want it.”

This slow rhythmic slide is just as good as the heavy thrusts, and makes it easy to rub against the man’s sweet spot if Nowaki angles his hips just right. Every time he does, the man’s hole flutters and clenches and his cock drips pre-come thickly over Nowaki’s fingers with each slow movement. When Nowaki leans in for a open mouthed and messy kiss, Akihiko curses quietly and comes, slicking Nowaki’s palm. Nowaki swallows the gasps and groans hungrily, grinding forward into the squeezing, clutching heat until Akihiko reaches back and braces a hand on his belly to stop him. 

It takes him a second to get his breath back, and in that time Nowaki spins him around, yanks one long leg out of those skin tight trousers and lifts him to brace his back against the stall wall instead; that bare leg cast over his elbow to get the angle right, the other hooked tightly around his back. Akihiko has to cast his arms up and back to grab the edge of the wall, just to give himself a bit of support, and his shirt strains at the buttons with the flex of his chest. 

“This ok?” he mutters, and Akihiko, still panting and flushed, nods keenly. This angle gets him a pretty view as he pushes his cock back in, the flicker and twitch of the man’s face easily readable in the aftermath of his orgasm. He bites his lips as Nowaki pushes deep, reflecting the easily set off aftershocks of his body as he clenches and twitches and his cock never fully softens despite his earlier orgasm. It’s agonisingly good this way, and Nowaki fully intends to be kind and gentle and very swiftly loses that control. He fucks the man harder than before, biting down on a throbbing pulse point at his neck, and Akihiko’s wrecked gasps get louder until Nowaki has to shove three fingers from his come-messy hand into the man’s mouth to quieten him.

It’s the flex of the man’s tongue around his fingers that tips Nowaki over, as Usami sucks his own come down with every sign of enjoyment. The boiling, tensing feeling of orgasm hits Nowaki full force, and he has to smother his groan in the side of the man’s throat as his hips grind forward. It feels like seconds and years simultaneously, while all his senses have tunnelled down to the taste of sweat slick skin against his lips and the burning, aching throb of his cock as he comes hard. He manages a few more stuttering thrusts to really draw the pleasure out, until the hot squeeze of Usami’s shivering body is too much against his length and he’s almost grateful as his softening cock slips out. 

He can feel the effort telling on him now with no distractions - he’s strong and Usami is definitely smaller than him in all dimensions, but the man’s not light - so it's a relief when Usami unhooks his legs from around him and staggers slightly when he stands on his own two feet again.

“Thank you,” says Akihiko, and kisses him sweetly, his mouth tasting of salt and metal. “You’re definitely an effective cure for boredom.”

Nowaki mutters something unintelligible and carefully tucks himself back into his jeans, which are now just the wrong side of skinny for comfort against his still sensitive cock. Inches away, Usami manages to fit himself back into his trousers with surprising grace for a man slithering into skin tight fabric in a bathroom stall. He has to stretch up to pull them over his thighs, sweaty and now slicked down the inside with Nowaki’s come.

It’s that madness that overcomes Nowaki again, this burning, hormonal lust that makes him grab the man’s wrists and pull him around before he can get his clothes back up over the curve of his ass, to shove him against the same wall they’d just fucked against and kiss him hard.

They could go home, go their separate ways and maybe see each other from time to time when one of them was ‘bored’. But Nowaki could very quickly see  _ himself _ becoming bored, say in the next 24 hours of his day off. There didn’t seem to be much point in stopping given that case. He pressed forward a little more, so the man was really pinned against the wall, and nipped at the column of his throat as he took his half-hard cock in hand again. Akihiko made a breathy noise and clutched at Nowaki’s back with blunt nails. He was an absolute fucked out mess already: Nowaki wanted to make it far worse.

“Tell your friend you’re calling it a night,” he suggests, working his hand firmly on Usami’s cock, slipping two fingers into the man’s hole just to work pressure on his prostate from within. “We can go get a room somewhere. I don’t think I’m quite done yet…” 

He pulls out and lets go at the same time; in the dim light Usami’s expression is simultaneously bereft and incredibly unamused. Nowaki kisses that much abused side of his neck as he pulls his trousers up fully, dipping sneaking fingers across the curve of his backside just to tease. 

Akihiko looks at him for a long time, and Nowaki gets the feeling the man is fighting the tide of the same stupid lust that had driven them into these encounters in the first place. Neither of them fights it for very long - Usami nods shortly and leans into Nowaki’s kiss one more time. 

“Let me send a message first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like I'm powerful with a little bit of tender  
> An emotional, sexual bender  
> Mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better  
> There's nothin' better  
> That's just the way you make me feel
> 
> Janelle Monae, Make Me Feel
> 
> (aka official raunchy porn-writing mix track 1)


	3. the hotel room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i HAVE A PROBLEM. THEY'RE TOO HOT. CAN'T STOP MAKING THEM FUCK.

The message turns into a phone call, which turns into half an hour of fierce argument between Usami and a short brunet guy with a big temper. Nowaki stands at one end of the bar and takes advantage of Usami’s apparently unlimited tab, while at the other shadowy end another guy is watching the fight with interest. He tips a glass towards Nowaki with a smirk on his indistinguishable face, as if he were amused by the whole thing. Nowaki dislikes him instinctively.

Finally, the friend throws his hands up in the air, says some remarkably uncomplimentary things and storms off, towards the mysterious guy at the other end of the bar. Usami orders two shots of the most expensive vodka at the bar and knocks them both down before Nowaki can even reach his side.

Surprisingly he doesn’t seem that upset. Nowaki had been telling his overactive libido that it might have to take a raincheck after a fight like that, but Usami just sets the second shot glass down and gives him a look rather like a rabbit in headlights when he’s asked if he’s ok.

“That’s just Hiroki,” he says, “He does that. Shall we go?”

“You’re sure _he’s_ ok?”

Usami shrugs again. “He was going to leave with his realtor boyfriend anyway,” he says, managing to sound dismissive of the entire real estate industry in just a couple words. “So he can throw all the fits he wants. It’s not going to stop me.”

“Are you sure..?” says Nowaki, even as the primitive hindbrain attached to his libido is screaming at him to stop trying to cockblock himself.

He gets a dark look and then Akihiko is leaning in, voice like liquid smoke. “Cold feet already? I thought you wanted to fuck me again,” he purrs against Nowaki’s mouth, the flavour of the vodka seeping onto his lips. “I know a nice hotel nearby. You could have your cock back in my ass in fifteen minutes if you wanted.”

Nowaki _wants_.

* * *

 

The hotel is five stars and at least twenty stories tall. Nowaki has been here for a few exclusive paediatrics conferences, but never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be staggering into the marble lobby in the company of someone the receptionists nearly fall over themselves to check in. There’s another flash of a black credit card, and Nowaki hopes desperately that this card isn’t under the watchful eye of family accountants who might report back the sudden bizarre expenditure to, say, someone’s banking mogul father.

He also hopes there’s no cameras in the lifts given what they do in there on the trip up to the eighteenth floor.

All in all, it’s about twenty minutes until the suite door closes behind them and Nowaki wraps his arms around the other man’s slender waist.

“I think you underestimated,” he says, letting his hand stray across the buttons of the shirt. He was right the first time he saw the guy - under his hands are firm muscles, broad shoulders tapering in sharply to a narrow waist. The ass goes without saying. _Effort_ has been put into making that ass look like that.

“I’m only out by five,” says Usami. “Any more talking and you’re cheating.”

Twenty minutes is long enough. So instead Nowaki grasps the hem of his own tshirt and yanks it up over his head. Instantly there are chilly hands brushing over his stomach, tracing the lines of his pecs, his abs, the v of his hip bones. It’s nice to be appreciated but he wants more, and reaches out to pop a button on Usami’s shirt.

So the shirt joins his on a pile on the floor, and then, as Nowaki presses hot desperate kisses to Akihiko’s exposed throat, they kick off shoes and tumble into the huge bed. It’s not unlike fucking on a cloud.

Akihiko pulls Nowaki atop of himself by the belt loops and kisses him hard. Every part of his body is hard and tight, except the plush squeeze of his arse in Nowaki’s palms. Even his cock is diamond hard, grinding against Nowaki’s own reawakened erection, and they rut and pant into their kisses until finally Nowaki pushes himself up onto his knees and hurriedly pulls at his zipper.

In tandem, without speaking, both borne by the same lust, they stripped the last clothes off entirely. Nowaki’s fingers slip into tight wet heat easily, his own come slick on his fingertips.

“Fuck me,” growls Akihiko, hand resting on his own cock and hips grinding down into the touch. “Come _on_.”

“Now who’s being bossy?” teases Nowaki, breathlessly. His cock slips in like it was meant to be there; Usami’s legs fall apart as he shifts closer, remarkably flexible, and he arches his back to try to find leverage to push them tighter together. “You feel so _good_.”

Usami smiles like he might be about to go mad and squeezes one of Nowaki’s arse cheeks firmly. “Do as you’re damn told,” he grumbles breathily, and then makes a delicious gasping groan as Nowaki wedges his knees into the mattress and _fucks_ him.

His hole is wet with come and lube, slick and soft and burning hot. Nowaki fucks him hard; he’s been aching for it since they stepped into the lift and Usami had pinned him against a wall, slipped long fingers down the waistband of his jeans and groped him until he was dripping and the lift was slewing to a stop. Akihiko had leant so close into his personal space they had been breathing the same air and murmured terrible, terrible, _amazing_ things about how much he wanted Nowaki’s cock, how his arse just _ached_ after the fucking he’d been given earlier, how wet and ready he was thanks to the first load.

Nowaki had been a teenager the last time he had come in his pants, but it had been a close run thing then. He had been so hard, it had almost been agony.

Now between them, wedged together so tightly it’s difficult to get a hand between their bodies, Akihiko’s cock is a similar condition, but the man doesn’t touch himself, just pulls at Nowaki’s hips to encourage his rough pace. He’s hammering in now, the slap of skin to skin loud even above their panting, and it’s too rough and he should slow down but… It’s so good. His whole body burns with how good it is to just ruin this tight little hole, every thrust sinking home and the ring of muscle fluttering frantically when he withdraws. The noise is obscene. It’s just too fucking _hot_.

“I’m…” he manages and then his orgasm is like a bolt of lightning, scouring his brain, his spine, every nerve. All he can manage is to continue to fuck in, as his balls tighten and throb, and it feels like years until the signal reaches his hips that they can stop. He just manages to brace himself on his elbows and avoid entirely crushing Akihiko beneath him: for several minutes it’s all he can do to pant into the crux of the man’s throat, before he sits back and his cock slips free.

The sight of the man’s hole, dripping come in a gentle opalescent trickle from the pretty flushed and sore looking pink of the stretched rim, is like a shot of adrenaline dropped directly into Nowaki’s libido. He can’t even begin to get hard again just yet, but it clears the cobwebs of orgasm like a bucket of cold water so he can fully appreciate the meal spread in front of him.

Akihiko looks simultaneously sleepy eyed, satisfied and _hungry_. Sprawled against his thigh, his cock is still almost painfully hard, so Nowaki reaches down and curls his fingers around the base.

That strange, ravenous part of Nowaki that thinks it’s nice to have his hand back on a cock that’s not his own, wants him to take his time and shred this posh brat to shreds until he’s begging for relief. This is the part that has gotten Nowaki into this trouble. He’s into his neck already.

He brushes his thumb across the head, copiously slick with precome, and Akihiko gives a tight short hiss through his nose, bites down into his own lip hard. His fingers, deprived of the reach to dig into Nowaki’s arse cheeks, knot in the sheets. The hot skin is velvety in Nowaki’s palm, and as he essays a few practise strokes Akihiko’s thighs tremble and his slightly smug look finally melts into one of pure torture.

Nowaki decides to take pity on the man. Turnabout is fair play, so he ducks his head and licks a long path up to the head of the cock in his hand. The slick of pre-come is bitterly salty, but Nowaki’s sweet tooth seems to be wholly absent tonight. He lets the head rub against his tongue, until his mouth is watering.

Perhaps he lacks the slightly alarming skills with which Usami had initially taken him apart with on their first meeting, but he likes to think he can compensate via enthusiasm. Certainly he doesn’t garner any complaints, just faint gasps and groans, and when he has to take a break to rest his jaw, the gratification of seeing the man panting and flushed across the cheeks.

He needs no encouragement. This time he lowers his mouth until the warning spasm at the back of his throat, and then starts to suck in earnest, bobbing his head and letting his saliva drip from the corners of his mouth to ease the path for his hand to stroke the rest he daren’t risk swallowing down. He presses a knuckle to the soft, come soaked place just behind the man’s balls, gradually pushing harder with each down stroke of his mouth, until finally Usami gives a groan like a wounded man and come spatters Nowaki’s tongue. He pulls off abruptly, just to pump the rest of the other man’s orgasm across his open mouth and face.

He’s hard again, just from this, his cock hanging between his legs obscenely, and Usami still looks frankly edible sprawled back and panting. Nowaki kisses a trail up his flat stomach, laves attention over his nipples until they stand to attention and finds himself with a comfortable seat astride the man’s lap.

The weight of the other man’s softening cock is a firm pressure against his backside, and Nowaki can’t help but grind down, earning heartfelt groans from them both. The slick brush of velvety skin across the back of his balls and the curve of his arse triggers something in his brain he can’t resist.

“Do you want to fuck me?” he says suddenly. His own dick frankly throbs in his hand at the thought.

Faintly stunned from just coming as he is, Usami Akihiko’s reaction times are second bar none. He nods firmly and has them rolled over in the matter of a second.

“When’s the last time you even tried fingering yourself?” he asks, and smirks when Nowaki stares right back at him and does a decent impression of a man with no shame, who totally hadn’t had a year long dry spell where he could only just about spare the time to jerk off in his morning shower if he was lucky. “Uh-huh. Wait there one second. Keep this keen..” he says with a lingering touch of Nowaki’s cock.

The noise that comes out of Nowaki’s mouth when the man climbs off him is akin to a disappointed squeak. Usami quirks an eyebrow at him and then prowls, totally naked, to the door, which he unlocks - still _naked_ and with Nowaki’s come shining on his thighs and buttocks - and fetches something from outside. Nowaki cranes to look and comes to the conclusion that the rich have no shame at all. There is a bottle of champagne, two flutes and a small paper bag which disgorges a bottle of lube and a packet of condoms.

Usami chucks these over his shoulder dismissively. “A bit late for those,” he says, with the devil-may-care attitude of someone with two loads of come in his ass.

“You got lube on room service?” Nowaki laughs.

“One of us came prepared, but it just so happens it’s the other one asking for a cock up his ass,” says Akihiko.

He pops the cork on the champagne one handed, and drinks a few mouthfuls straight from the bottle as he kneels up between Nowaki’s legs. Some of the condensation drips from the bottle and lands on his chest, so Nowaki does the only sensible thing and laps it away with his tongue. This earns him a shudder and the cold bottle pressed against his own belly. The sensation makes him start; he snatches the bottle up in a fit of pretend pique and takes a gulp of his own as a chilly mouth trails over his abs. Open mouthed kisses are pressed to his hip-bones, a soft pink bruise sucked onto the right as Akihiko casts a mischievous look up underneath blonde eyelashes.

For all he’s the one being slowly teased, with fingers creeping across his thighs, scratching through his pubic hair, slipping across the crease of buttock and thigh, Nowaki feels a lot like he’s being worshipped. He gently pushes Akihiko back with a foot to the chest and hauls himself against the embrace of the pillows at the head of the bed. There, propped up like a lounging prince and with the bottle of champagne gently sizzling to itself in his hand, Nowaki lets his thighs fall apart and beckons the other man back in between them.

Akihiko goes where he’s bade, the bottle of lube kept in easy reach, and he presses scalding hot kisses to the flexing muscle of Nowaki’s quads as he slips hands underneath his buttocks and tilts his pelvis up just enough. Here his thumb brushes over Nowaki’s rim briefly, just a flirting touch as he mouths over Nowaki’s balls.

“I want to come with you in my ass,” says Nowaki, feeling his cock throb warningly at the combined sight and sensation. “Get a move on.”

Usami looks slightly wild again, his irises swallowed by the black of his dilated pupils, something truly hungry and on the scent of its prey. A finger trails down the hot secret place behind Nowaki’s balls, dripping slippery lube into its path, and then slips in to the first knuckle.

Nowaki wriggles and squeezes down on the intrusion. Champagne and sheer magnetic arousal is playing havoc on his senses, and it doesn’t feel half as strange as it always had before. Perhaps Akihiko senses this and the digit slides deeper and then draws out slowly. The second finger is equally slowly introduced and removed, and Nowaki swigs heavily from the bottle as he’s reduced to the human equivalent of a puddle. Akihiko has an unnatural talent for crooking those long pianist’s fingers and playing the pads of his fingers over Nowaki’s prostate like he was a keyboard. On the crux of his thigh and hip, Nowako’s cock oozes precome in thick gouts with each press and the soaring ache of arousal loosens his inhibitions and his hole’s grip on those fingers.

He gulps another mouthful from the vastly lighter bottle and manages, “You need to fuck me _now_.”

Akihiko moves up like a striking snake and kisses him so hard their teeth click. His cock rubs into Nowaki’s thigh, grinds against his own length and Nowaki has to grab his hips and redirect him for fear they’ll just rub off against each other instead of the goal he wants. Therefore it’s almost like a relief to feel the pressure of a cock against his hole and the first inch open him up. Akihiko, the utter bastard, laughs against his mouth and then pulls back entirely, flopping onto his back and taking the champagne with him. Nowaki follows, faintly desperate, and ends up in the same damn position that had triggered this godforsaken urge in him.

If Nowaki had felt like a rich bastard lying amid the pillows with a bottle of alcohol and a pretty man between his thighs, he was nothing in comparison to Akihiko, who sprawls like a foreign potentate, all dusky eyelashes and pouting mouth.

“If you want it so badly, show me,” purrs the man, letting the last few drops of champagne drip onto his pink tongue.

Nowaki has never hated someone he wants to fuck him so badly in his life. He kneels up and reaches behind himself to align the man’s cock with his hole. The first blunt inch pushes in again and he groans as his body opens up and slowly accepts the rest. By the time he has settled to the base, both of them are panting again and Nowaki is happy to accept he’s not going to last very long at all.

The feeling is unique, to be so full with someone’s cock, the soft burn of muscles stretched apart, friction creating strange shivers up his spine. Akihiko wets his fingers with more lube and rubs it to Nowaki’s rim, until the friction is a slick glide and Nowaki can focus on his rhythm. He finds the exact point he can rise to before bouncing back down, accepting big hands across his hips for further balance, as he fucks himself on the man’s cock. HIs own dick doesn’t stand to be neglected and he takes himself in hand, but it’s difficult to concentrate on both sensations at once and before long he’s nearly whining for more, hips stuttering in place as he strokes his cock.

“Let me help,” murmurs Akihiko. Nowaki starts as he’s rocked forward slightly by the man’s knees, his feet bracing in the tangled sheets, and then makes a strangled noise at the first thrust upwards. It feels like it scores directly into his spine. “Got it in one.”

“You are intolerable,” gasps Nowaki, but he can’t complain beyond that because he’s being fucked senseless, his prostate rubbed firmly with each thrust deep and his cock dripping in his hand. He barely needs to stroke himself anymore for the jarring of his body forward into the circle of his hand. He’s being played like a bloody instrument and he couldn't care less because he’s just teetering on the verge of orgasm.

“I thought you wanted to come?” purrs Usami, silver tongue entirely a contrast to the pink flush of effort on his cheeks. He looks about as broken as Nowaki feels, and it’s such as surge of power to reduce this man to his own level by bouncing on his lap. They’re both trapped in this mad cycle of lust now, and Nowaki bows his head and licks into his mouth for the lack of words to tell him that he understands. He comes like a cork popping off, and sobs for air as his body tenses with the sheer effort of this orgasm, squeezing tight about the cock up his ass until Akihiko groans, low and entirely shattered. There’s a hot rush of fluid soaking his insides, and Nowaki can take exactly no more sensation; he feels like he might cry. He rolls off abruptly and sprawls into the high count cotton.

* * *

 

For a long while, they lay still; breath slowly returning to a slow, even pattern. Nowaki watches the lights from the traffic and buildings below dance across the ceiling and just about fights the urge to sleep. His balls ache, his cock still feels like a live wire and it’s possible he may have pulled a muscle in his arse at some point. Someone has replaced his limbs with wet rope. He’s never hurt quite as sweetly as this before.

As if drawn in by gravity, Akihiko rolls to the side and wraps himself along Nowaki’s flank. He looks exhausted, and falls into a doze rapidly, head cushioned on Nowaki’s chest. Nowaki is tempted to join, but there’s come drying uncomfortably on his skin and he wants to tuck into the fine blankets and not worry about waking up glued in place. He elbows the man back awake, to a chorus of grumbles, and drags him to the bathroom.

The shower was huge, well big enough to fit two strapping young men under a steady stream of scalding hot water. The layers of the night’s indulgences strip off easily under the sandalwood soap provided by the hotel, and the soft, sleepy caress of his lover. Nowaki can only provide the same treatment in kind, careful with his fingers between the other man’s buttocks in the same place he can feel a slippery ache between his own. His body can barely manage an interested twitch at the press of soft wet skin on his own when Akihiko leans into his touch.

“I think I’m done forever,” he mutters. “You’ve broken me.”

“Quitter,” says Akihiko, without malice. He leans in even closer and kisses Nowaki sweetly, his tongue sharp with the taste of come and champagne. When he draws back he’s sleepy eyed and flushed in the heat of the water, swaying slightly. “Mmm, come back to bed…”

“Once I wash properly,” promises Nowaki. He spends ten more minutes under the blast of hot water, mind empty and enjoying the calm of not having to think for a while, until he too starts to feel the effects of the heat and has to step out and grab a towel.

In the foggy bathroom mirror, his body is littered with bruises, fingermarks. His lips look bee stung from kissing, and his cock is quiescent but flushed from so much attention. There’s no mistaking the well fucked air either, deep bone aching satisfaction. He smiles at his bleary reflection and feels the call of bed.

* * *

  
Akihiko is near face down in his pillow, back rising and falling gently as he dozed. Nowaki pauses in the doorway, scrubbing lightly at his damp hair with the towel.  
  
He had been exhausted when he finally had the alone time in the shower: indeed up until about fifteen seconds ago he had been under the impression his cock might never work again. But now bed was available he feels bizarrely awake. And perhaps not as done as he had thought.  
  
The only light in the bedroom is the amber numbers on the alarm clock, and they cast a dim honeyed glow across Akihiko's pale hair. The blankets are draped just above his hips, and the high count fabric clung across his ass and thighs like an old lover.  
  
Nowaki’s cock stirs with the thought and he tosses the towel across a nearby chair as he prowls forward. The mattress shifts slightly as he kneels up on the edge, bracing his knees either side of Akihiko's and leaning forward to brush a kiss to the man's nape.  
  
"Evening, sunshine," he croons. Akihiko jerks slightly and then sighs and relaxes. "Miss me?"  
  
"You were gone for fifteen minutes. I'd miss you more if you didn't wake me up," murmurs Akihiko, without any fire. He wriggles a little deeper into his pillow and groans quietly when Nowaki leans his weight down on top of him. "I think you may have missed _me_ though."  
  
Nestled firmly against that fantastic firm ass, Nowaki's cock is now throbbing hard. He grinds down harder and muffles his moan against his lover's shoulder at the thrum of exhausted arousal.  
  
"You should fuck me again," says Akihiko mildly, as if discussing the weather.  
  
Nowaki has to stifle another groan. "You're half asleep," he says breathlessly. “I’ve fucked you two times tonight already.”  
  
"Oh please." Akihiko yawns and raises his hips slightly, grinding back into Nowaki's cock. "Do something selfish. Just don't expect me to move."  
  
"Lazy," laughs Nowaki, slipping a hand down, and tugging the blanket back obediently. Beneath, happily, the man is going commando and the touch of skin on skin is heavenly. "God.. Are you sure? We just cleaned up..."  
  
Akihiko flops out an arm and extracts the bottle of lube from a knot of sheets. Nowaki takes it gratefully.

"Get to it," the man murmurs cushioning his head on his crossed arms and keeping his eyes firmly closed. His breath hitches slightly at the first slick touch across his hole but he remains still and relaxed as Nowaki slowly pushes his first finger inside, mindful that the flesh would be tender. The second goes easily and soon Nowaki has rather lost himself in the slow slick movements, slipping between three to just the one finger and enjoying the hot clutch. As well as they had cleaned in the shower, there is still a slick of his own come softening the way.

  
"Come on," murmurs Akihiko, voice deep and raspy, "Enough. Get on and fuck me."  
  
Nowaki's cock lurches in his hand and he obeys, slicking himself carefully and pressing forward. Akihiko's breath catches again, and when Nowaki's hips are flush with his ass and he is able to flatten himself down over his lover the man gives a heartfelt sigh.  
  
"More like it," he grumbles.  
  
Nowaki noses against the man's silken soft hair and groaned as the tight heat around him squeezes and releases. He sets a slow relaxed pace, hips grinding rhythmically to do little more than push deeper and relax back. He could lose himself in the sensation, and his breath comes in slow gasps at his lover's nape. One of Akihiko's hands rolls  back to pet gently at his still damp hair and the man's voice is a husky rumble, almost felt rather than heard.  
  
"Come on, come inside me," he murmurs, "Pour it all deep inside me so that tomorrow you can wake up and just fuck your cock inside me with no prep. Put me away wet."  
  
"Fuck..." Nowaki's hips jerk forward and he nearly sinks his teeth into the crook of his lover's shoulder. God, he could imagine it, waking up next to his impossibly handsome lover, all silver and honey in the daylight, pushing one long thigh over another and just sliding deep into this slick heat. Akihiko would groan and toss his head back against the pillow and Nowaki would just be undone by it all.  
  
He comes with a gasp and a soft curse, thrusts shuddering until the last few drops were out. Akihiko chuckles lowly but let him continue to thrust for a few moments more. Finally Nowaki can take no more, and carefully flopped over to the side, taking a grip of Akihiko's shoulder to pull him over with him.  
  
"Let me take care of you, yeah?" He purrs, taking Akihiko's half hard cock in hand. The man relaxes into his touch, sighing with every move of Nowaki's hand. It doesn’t  take long to get him on the edge, and Nowaki pushes the head of his still hard cock into the grasp of his hole. Akihiko groans and spills into Nowaki's palm with a soft curse, tolerating the push back into his body for a few moments more before he braces a hand against the man's hip.  
  
"In order to put me away wet," he gasps, "You need to stop fucking me."

"I get the point," said Nowaki, easing the sheets back over them both, cleaning the slick mess of his hand on the half discarded and thoroughly soiled comforter. The urge to sleep was coming over him fast now: his eyelids feel heavy and his limbs once again are like lengths of wet rope. “Sleep well.”  
  
Akihiko rolls his head out of the pillow and gives him a sudden shy little smile that quirked only the corner of his mouth but shone right out of his eyes. It is no bright charming grin that moved the face but never reached the depth of his eyes, but a whole lot more sincere. Nowaki instantly finds himself a little bit breathless, reaching out for contact before he knew what his arm was doing. It feels right to have the man rest his head on his chest, one leg thrown up over his hips. A soft, warm feeling creeps over him, entirely separate from the comfort of the man’s skin on his own, and Nowaki feels like the stupidest man on the planet for falling right into another trap.

* * *

  

So there was madness, and then there was _madness_. Nowaki had thought himself a victim to the first, but this was something excruciating. He was pretty sure he didn’t mind one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lust is a poor, weak, whimpering, whispering thing compared with that richness and energy of desire which will arise when lust has been killed.
> 
> C.S Lewis
> 
>  
> 
> (Probably what actually happens is they bang a few more times and then life gets in the way, and five years down the line, Nowaki finds himself being introduced to Hiro-san's BFFand finds himself face to face with Usami Akihiko and they have a silent unspoken pact they will NEVER speak of what happened. 
> 
> BUT MAYBE, they fall in love and it's fucking terrible and absolutely wonderful because they're co-dependent wrecks of human beings who approach their problems from catastrophically different angles, but somehow it works. When Nowaki gets promotion to attending doctor or Akihiko has another award to collect they get to pose together in ridiculously expensive suits and looks like a billion yen each, and even Usami Fuyuhiko can't complain because his new son-in-law is a /doctor/ ok. It's not going to get better than that.)


End file.
